


Thrown Away

by northernxstories



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Daddy Murphy, F/M, adoptive father, maternal death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27780883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/northernxstories/pseuds/northernxstories
Summary: John Murphy becomes a father. Emori joins his little family.
Relationships: Emori/John Murphy (The 100)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

Weak cries sounded from the small shelter and Murphy’s heart instantly leapt. He wondered if you ever got used to it. The feeling in your body when the baby cried. When your baby cried. That thought was still terrifying. Murphy hadn’t even given him a name yet. As if that would stop him from getting attached or something. Given that he spent all day, every day, trying to figure out how they would both survive, it was clear that he should probably, at some point, give the infant a name. 

Not that he had anything to do with the making of said baby. He hadn’t been on the planet’s surface long enough for one thing. He wasn’t sure which clan had claimed the mother, if any to be fair. He knew enough to know that none of them would claim the baby, not with their foot like that. He couldn’t quite describe it. It just didn’t look right. It didn’t seem to hurt him though. Murphy had touched it often enough and the baby didn’t cry when he did so. Also, the little dude could surely kick hard enough, Murphy noted, remembering that one accidental kick that landed in such a way that it practically sent him to his knees and had him readjusting where the carrier sat so it wouldn’t happen again.

After Finn’s death, he knew there was no way to stay in Camp Jaha. Not with the way people looked at him. It was survival on the edge. They were just waiting for an excuse to slide another noose around his neck. He didn’t trust them. How could he? Finn had been their golden boy and even Clarke turned on him. He was garbage to them. So he gathered up as many supplies as he could carry and started walking. He wasn’t sure where he was going or what he would do when he got there. He was well aware that no one would come looking and sure enough, no one did. 

Did that hurt? Yes. Did he expect it? Yes again. They would lament the loss of supplies more than they would lament his disappearance. He suspected in a year or two no one would remember his name.

Then he had heard someone screaming. Now, if he had had a lick of sense, he would have bolted the other way but apparently he was a complete dumb ass. He ran toward the noise, the sound of someone in distress, and appeared at the edge of a small grove. 

There, Murphy found her, alone, back to a tree under a sort of lean-to structure. There was so much blood that he could scarcely make out human skin under it all. She had been too exhausted by her efforts to even be terrified when he appeared from the foliage and instead reached toward him, pleading in a language he did not understand. You didn’t need to understand to know what she wanted. Help.

So, he helped the best he could and eventually, as the sun came up the next day, the baby finally arrived into the world. A little boy. The mother wearily reached for him as he tended to the final steps of the birth. He was sitting back, drawing ragged breaths and trying to sip water when he noticed her sobbing. She was holding one tiny foot in her hands and weeping as though her heart would break. 

In a halting dialogue of pointing, gestures, English and Trig, he managed to figure out that this was her second and the first had been left to die because of a similar problem. Or the same problem. He actually wasn’t entirely sure. He did figure out that the baby would be killed if her people found them. Her recovery was slow but the scent of blood would attract animals so they needed to move. She showed him how to mix the bottles with some powder she was carrying in pouches. There was quite a lot of it. Her pack had been larger than his and he managed to combine them into one. It was not easy to carry and he staggered under its weight until he got used to it. 

They moved to slightly higher ground until she could finally move. Then they started to walk. He tried to ask where she was going but her explanation didn’t make sense to him and he finally gave up. Unfortunately by the week’s end, she had a raging infection and nothing she was carrying with her or could find seemed to curb it. By the end of the second week, Murphy was alone with the baby and he left her buried under a pile of stones. It just seemed wrong to leave her in the open air and he didn’t have the equipment to dig a grave in the hard soil. So stones it was. 

It was strange how quickly you got used to the routine of it. Half the day you spent walking, the other half finding some sort of shelter or making a lean to. Feed the baby, clean the baby, feed himself, clean himself, walk, find shelter, try to sleep and then get up the next day to do it all over again.. It was exhausting and yet, it gave him something to focus on that wasn’t himself. There was something nice about that he had to admit. Finding clean water was the hardest part. His sole task was to keep them alive. The baby was actually quite content, willing to be in the carrier all day every day as he walked. 

Today, he had made the small lean-to first and tucked the baby behind a small outcropping of rock underneath to sleep. Meanwhile, he went about making the rest of the camp. The baby had issued his first cry and then waited. He never cried for long as Murphy responded quickly pretty much every time. The baby seemed to have survivor’s instincts even at this young age. 

Setting the stack of firewood next to the small pit he had made, he was about to reach into the shelter when he felt a blade touch the edge of his throat. He froze. Fuck fuck fucking fuck fuck. He was so tired he hadn’t noticed anyone approaching. That was clumsy and stupid. 

“Please … okay … please.” There wasn’t much sound to accompany these words. He was just so tired. The baby’s thin wail filled the air again and he flinched, driving the tip of the blade into his throat. He could feel the heat running down the side of his neck and he slowly turned his head to meet her eyes. 

She was beautiful. A tattoo traced over her forehead down her nose and splashed over one cheek. Her eyes were dark and her hair fell in waves over her shoulders. “Please.” He whispered, his voice rough and internally he prayed she spoke enough English to understand what he was saying. He watched as she flicked back the infant’s blanket with one hand, revealing the boy’s deformed foot. Knowing how her people viewed such deformities, he felt a surge of, he wasn’t sure what, was this being a father? Fucking hell. He pushed on the Grounder’s arm and shoved her back. 

Scooping up the baby, Murphy cradled him against his chest, as his other hand reached for the axe he had just been using to chop wood. It wasn’t large but it was sharp enough to do damage. “I won’t let you hurt him. Back off.” He roared, although he had no idea how he could protect the baby and fight her. He had to try. 

The woman then held up her gloved hand as she sheathed her knife with the other. Tugging off the glove, she revealed that she was like his boy. “Oh …. His … his mother said they killed people who were different like that.” Murphy explained, sounding oddly apologetic considering she had just been holding a knife to his throat. 

“They do.” She replied softly as she pulled the glove back on. The relief at hearing another person speak English almost made Murphy lightheaded. The female continued, “My village threw me away. Put me out to die. I didn’t.” She smiled but it was fierce around the edges. 

“That’s pretty badass.” Murphy acknowledged with his own crooked smile. 

“I guess so.” She nodded toward the baby, “Is he yours?” 

“He is now.” Murphy replied, his smile fading slightly as he looked down at the baby, who seemed content now that he was being held. He spent most of his time strapped to Murphy’s chest after all. 

The woman seemed to be watching this, evaluating him, evaluating this situation and for a moment, Murphy wondered at what she saw. He knew he must look ridiculous in some ways, especially to someone who clearly was capable of handling herself and this place.

“Where are you going?” she finally asked. Murphy had to laugh, sinking down to sit on the edge of a log and shrugged. “I have no idea. I had to leave. I ended up with him. I’m just … trying to find somewhere safe for us. So he can grow up I guess. Me too.”

As if recognizing the laughter had nothing to do with her and yet amused by him, her face warmed into a smile to match his own. Murphy was struck by how absolutely beautiful she was. 

“It’s nice to talk to someone.” he admitted quietly. 

“Yeah it is.” She agreed. “May I sit at your fire for a while?”

So it came to be that John Murphy, formerly of SkaiKru and now of no Clan at all, met Emori who was thrown away by her Clan and yet survived. They debated names for the baby until night fell and they ended up curled up in the rather pitiful excuse for a shelter that Murphy had constructed. 

“Remind me to show you how to build a better one.” She half scolded as she stretched out on the blanket she had brought with her. Another one was spread over the three of them. The newly named, Otis, was nestled on his adoptive father’s chest. One arm was nestled behind her head as her right arm slipped forward, settling her still gloved hand over the baby’s feet. 

Murphy looked down at her hand and over at the woman on his right and whispered, “I am not a good person, you know. I’m the bad guy.” He tried to explain and she shook her head, amused by the boy who had become a father to an orphaned baby trying to explain how he was not a good person. 

“Me too.” She whispered. “We can be bad guys together.”


	2. Calculated Risk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A calculated risk potentially goes wrong. Well-meaning bad guy in the sense that everyone here thinks they are doing the right thing and just not agreeing on what is the right thing. Protective Dad Murphy. Protective Mama Emori. Octavia and Raven show up with a rock star guest appearance at the end to be mini-heroes.

Emori was wary of this collection of people, who were making a mess of their arrival from the sky. She did not want to be here. At some point after her John had left, they had changed the name to Arkadia. Emori had no issue with the name. She was a woman who made quick decisions and had long since learned to rely on her gut. She did not waiver for long. Meeting John was a rare occasion. A man, a boy really, holding a baby close and protecting him with all manner of ineptitude but such gentle love. She wasn’t certain anyone had loved her the way John loved Otis when she was an infant. He poured everything he had into it, going without if it meant Otis and now she got what they needed. She knew he didn’t realize she noticed but she did.

After they met, she knew she would travel with him, for at least a little while, and teach him what he needed to know to survive. He took every lesson she had very seriously - learning what roots to dig, what mushrooms to eat, which fishing spots would give you fresh water and a meal if you were sensible. She introduced him to things he had never tasted before like when they tried butter from a farmer with whom she traded. She thought he was going to melt into the earth, he and the baby were so content eating their fire-roasted yams with butter and fillets of flakey fish cooked in it. He made her laugh. He made her feel safe and his devotion to Otis made her fall in love. Being with him was the easiest thing she had done in her life. He made every day better by being there. Sometimes she had to leave him behind to go accomplish the things she needed to do and whenever she reappeared, he welcomed her with a hug that melted her heart every single time. His affection for her seemed boundless and she had a hard time believing that his own people could throw away this boy that was capable of so much love.

Then Otis woke in the night with a temperature. She fixed him the tea that usually helped and while it lowered it a little, it didn’t help enough. Otis stopped being able to keep food down and would cough and cough until his whole body seemed racked with pain. His steady growth and weight gain plummeted. John finally said he needed to take the baby back to his people. That they had medicine that could save Otis’ life. He never wanted to see them again but he’d walk into anything just to have a chance at saving his son.

So they travelled by any means they could. Otis worsened. He barely slept, his body tormented with coughing fits and his temperature spiking. They almost poured the tea down his throat but it only alleviated a little of Otis’ suffering. They grew afraid as their healthy little one who had been just starting to crawl was now barely able to hold his head up. He just wanted to be in Murphy’s arms at all times. It seemed to be the only place where he was comforted.

They arrived at Arkadia and what shocked Emori the most was how coldly Murphy was greeted. She followed him through the halls of the former space station, trailing after him as he went to what he called an “infirmary” to see a Healer named Jackson. No wait, doctor. Yes, John called the Healer a doctor, which seemed an odd title and not the slightest bit descriptive of the position. Emori had long learned the objective lesson that remaining quiet yet observant was the smart move in unfamiliar territory. She didn’t like these people and the way many of them looked at her. A man called Pike had argued for her incarceration, which shocked Emori to her core since she had not even stolen anything from them. Yet.

The doctor person had argued for her to remain on the premise that Otis would need her. In the beginning they seemed to mistakenly believe she had given birth to the infant but in time John managed to convince them otherwise. Later this would prove to be an error, although they did not know this at the time.

She had been sitting quietly in the corner of the infirmary, in a shadowed spot, half dozing, when she heard a small group enter. It was the other doctor person, Griffin, and a pair of young people. They looked to be together and were staring down at Otis with big eyes. It seemed a little too predatory and possessive for Emori's comfort. She slowly straightened and strained to listen. The implication of the words she overheard had her heart racing and made her mouth go dry. They were planning to take the baby away and give him to these people. Their Otis! Surely John would never agree to this proposal. It was disgusting. She waited until the others left and slipped from her shadowy hiding spot. Learning not to draw attention to yourself was handy but never more so than right now. She checked on Otis and although the medicine they had here was helping, he still was not yet fully recovered. 

Creeping through the halls, she checked every corner and niche until she came to John, who was walking back toward the Infirmary with an armful of fabric tossed over one arm. “Oh Emori.” Murphy greeted and then grinned. “Look. Baby clothes for Otis. Found them in an old crate outside. People aren’t here anymore so I took as much as I looked like it would fit or he would grow into it.” He was chatty with the blissful relief of a man whose child’s life had been spared and was once again on the mend.

“They plan to take him.” She blurted without hesitation. She didn’t lie to John and he didn’t lie to her.

“What….” His smile was gone and he met Emori’s eyes. “What?” he repeated, "Talk to me."

“I was in the corner. Otis was sleeping. The one you call Griffin? She came in with another couple. They talked about the baby, about how he was good enough, how they would take him and they asked about fixing his foot.”

Murphy frowned in response to these words, his heart racing in his chest and it felt like blood was rushing into his ears. He wanted to scream, rage and break things. However, there was no time for self-indulgent temper tantrums, no matter how tempting they were. “His foot is fine. It doesn’t hurt him. It doesn’t need to be fixed.” He stated, as if that were the important part right now. Perhaps it was. Or perhaps he couldn’t bring himself yet to say that not only did his people not want him, they were planning to take his child away from him. 

Emori smiled at those words and leaned in to press a kiss to Murphy’s soft lips, as if soothing his temper away and rewarding him for saying the words she longed to hear from her own family all of her life. She broke it off and met his eyes. Her gaze hardened in response to the anger she saw in his eyes. Emori was aware this anger was not directed at her and she approved of that fire within her lover. “As soon as he is well, we need to leave.” She said quietly, almost a whisper against his lips.

“There are guards everywhere. We'll need help to get him out. “ Murphy replied. His voice was also soft. From a distance they looked like lovers plotting a rendezvous and not two people plotting a way to escape with their son. Needing help was a problem. He had few friends among his own people. 

They walked toward the infirmary with care, trying not to draw attention. Otis was awake and Murphy gathered him up immediately, cradling the baby against his chest and rocking him in a slow swaying motion. Emori grabbed the bundle of fabric and slowly began folding pieces to shove into her and John’s packs. They needed to be smart and leaving behind items they could use was not smart. 

Abby Griffin stepped into the room and stopped with a jerk, “Oh hello John. You know you can join everyone else now at the bar. There’s a little party going on.” Murphy glanced up and then down again. He felt a boiling rage but all he did was hold Otis a little closer. “Otis needs me. He’s doing much better now. Thank you.” The gratitude was genuine. He was so relieved to see Otis gaining weight and sleeping again.

Abby’s smile grew soft and indulgent, “You know this really isn’t your responsibility. A baby. It isn’t your baby. You’ve done a good thing bringing him here. We’ll take it from here.” She murmured as she reached for the infant. Murphy stepped back and Emori reached for him. “Careful.” She whispered, “Survivor moves, right?”

Murphy released that a bubble of anger he was holding in his chest and just sighed, “I’ve been taking care of him since he was born. He knows me. I’m staying with him.” What he really wanted to do was run a rampage through this place with his son in his arms and Emori by his side until they were out in the open air again and as far as he could get from Arkadia and these people. However, that was not the smart move, not until they figured out how to safely get away. Already Pike wanted Emori in lock-up for being a Grounder. He was not popular. He had to be smart. “It’s fine Doc. I got him. He’s doing a lot better.” As if backing him up, Otis sighed loudly and pressed his face against the side of Murphy’s neck. He let out a happy baby sound and then issued a series of babbles directed toward the only parents he knew.

Emori protectively placed her gloved hand over Otis’ small back and smiled at the baby. “Feeling better, little one? Hmmm?” She murmured before sparing a glance at the Healer. If anything the woman looked more resolute and Emori felt a pinch of fear. Could they really take Otis away from them? Away from Murphy? She knew he said they did not care for him, they had exiled him but until this moment she did not realize how much they must truly despise him to take his child away. He was no younger than many fathers that she knew of. Why did he deserve to lose his child? Emori did not understand. They stood together, a defiant little trio, until the Healer left. Only then did Emori feel she could breathe. 

“One of us needs to be with him at all times?” She whispered to him. 

“Yeah. Get some rest. I’ll stay with him for a bit and wake you up before I go see who I can get to help us through the fence line. There has to be someone.” Murphy replied, his voice equally soft. 

It took them a week to gain enough loyalty with anyone to earn help. Lincoln was their first choice but it was not easy to persuade him to defy the people keeping him alive. Every day, the other couple tried to visit. At one point, a guard actually pushed Murphy into a chair and he had to watch as two strangers attempted to cuddle his son. Otis, finally feeling better, had regained some of his personal preferences and cried for his father. A thin wail at first and then a wait. Waiting as he always did because his father always got him. The man never let him down. Except this time, another person picked him up. Otis was not having this and for the first time Murphy saw that his little boy also had quite the temper. As the cries escalated the other couple grew frustrated and offered him to the waiting boy. Murphy greedily snatched his son away and Otis was happy to go, his cries quickly dwindling to soft hiccups as he was back where he belonged. Unfortunately the message that the Doctor received from this incident was that Murphy needed to be kept out of the infirmary to facilitate other visits. He and Emori were officially barred.

It had been almost two full days of not even seeing his son and Murphy felt like he was dying inside, when he felt someone slid into the seat next to him. Emori was still trying to earn allies but as an outsider and a Grounder, she wasn’t having much luck. To be fair, Murphy couldn’t offer her much. Everyone hated him it seemed.

Except as he turned his head to the side, he saw Octavia Blake and he had to admit he was surprised. “Don’t look at me.” She stated in a stern whisper. He looked back at his hands but a spark of hope filled him, “Tonight. Around midnight. East side of the camp. There is a woodpile. Wait there. Bring your packs. I’ve made arrangements for someone to bring the baby. You have to move fast and do not come back. I can’t help you if you do.” 

Murphy nodded and got up to walk away after Octavia did. Could he trust her? He had no idea. They were out of options though. Fortunately Emori had their packs ready to go at a moment’s notice. As the hour grew late, he stepped out into the cool, late summer air and took a deep breath. He could make out familiar faces among the late stragglers. People milled about the camp, talking and laughing, and sometimes arguing. 

As people looked over at them curiously, they quickly hid their packs next to the woodpile and took up a stance that made them look like just another young couple, making out near the fence line. He heard the squeak of the baby before he saw him. Turning, he didn’t even hesitate to reach for him, stopping only when he saw who was holding him. “Raven.” He whispered. There was still a tremendous layer of guilt in his gut over what happened with Raven. She had done nothing to him and he had left her with a permanent and excruciating injury. There was no amount of I’m sorry that fixed that and nothing he could do to help. 

“Thank you.” He stated quietly as he quickly slipped Otis into his carrier, tying it off so it stayed in place. 

Raven nodded. Octavia was on look out and wasn’t watching them in particular but rather the movement around them. “We have a short window. The guard is changing now. The guys on this shift are notoriously chatty and always late. Walk fast, keep to the shadows. Don’t run. Running is eye catching. Live a good life Murphy … but ….” Octavia instructed. 

“Yeah I figured it out … don’t come back.” Murphy acknowledged with a nod. A year ago those words would have dripped in anger and bitterness. Now they were matter-of-fact. Otis was well. He wouldn't begrudge that other couple for wanting to keep him. Otis was awesome. Fact was though that he had a family and his family wasn’t about to give him up. 

“Thank you Octavia. Thank you Raven.” Murphy whispered and then glanced back at Raven, “Raven there isn’t …. I am sorry for what I did to you. I … I’m sorry.” No prevarication. No excuses. 

Raven nodded, tears sparkling for a second, “You know my mom never wanted me. Not the way you want Otis. Not the way you fight for him. Take care of him and well, we’ll consider it square, okay?” To her surprise, Emori folded her arms around the brunette, who returned the affection after a short delay.

“If you ever need us, leave a message at the TriKru trading station. We can’t guarantee a fast answer but we’ll answer.” Emori stated firmly before lifting her pack and passing John’s to him. “May we meet again.” She continued as she slipped out. Murphy followed and in minutes, they were lost in the shadows of the night.

After nearly an hour of walking and Otis once again sound asleep and drooling on Murphy’s chest, he finally spoke, “I told you I was the bad guy.” 

Emori just laughed, “Good thing we’re being the bad guys together. I think we just added kidnapping to our list of crimes.”

Murphy chuckled at her sassy reply, the tension in his body leaking away the further and further they got from the SkaiKru community, “Can you kidnap your own kid?” he joked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect to write a follow up for this one but this idea took hold and I wanted to put it to paper so to speak. I hope you enjoy. Just a short one. Shout out to the Dad!Murphy crew who remain inspiring and awesome.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story posted to AO3 so elected to go with a short vignette. Thanks to the crew at the DaddyMurphy discord server for the inspiration. You know who you are, should any of you stumble over this little creation. You are all top notch. All errors are mine as I had no beta reader for this one.


End file.
